


Pillow Biter

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, pillows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5299628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Impactor finds a pillow and takes it back to his and Megatron's habsuite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Biter

The wind on the planet’s surface was cutting and cruel. It skipped up gravel that hit Impactor’s plating at such speeds their impact scourged him with tiny marks. It wasn’t often he was permitted onto the surface, and even on this occasion it wasn’t to sample the scenery - barren though it was, Impactor was simply making his way from point A to point B. Point B being his habitation suite. Impactor’s shift was through for the day. He was tired and aching. The cold gales snapped at his joints and the discomfort of the solid concrete slab Impactor’s superiors had the nerve to call a  _berth_  was vaguely more appealing than his current setting. His march was dogged, Impactor battled through the weather with his gaze set narrowly on the road ahead. It was by pure chance that something outlandish skipped across his path. The wind must have disturbed its hiding place. When the object, whatever it was, settled at the centre of the road, Impactor mustered some energy and fought his way quickly through the biting wind.

He stooped forward, not knowing what to expect and was understandably surprised when his hand sunk into the plush body of the object. A pillow. Large enough to comfort a Cybertronian head more enormous than his own. Impactor’s brow lifted.

The mining planet was adverse to anything  _soft_. It was a deathly, harsh environment. Impactor couldn’t imagine how the pillow ran  afoul of such a horrid place. But he did not protest the opportunity to expand on his merger inventory of trinkets. Impactor did not collect things, that was his roommate’s department, but he did see the sensibility into holding onto a few  _luxury_  items, even if the guards did not.

With great care, Impactor smuggled his find back to his quarters, squeezing the soft body into as small a shape as possible and walking with a hunch. Impactor protected the pillow from envious co-workers who might fancy a bit of plushness for their helms, despite it not being a Cybertronian necessity.

Only when Impactor was concealed in the privacy of his dormitory could he relax. Ungently, he tossed the pillow onto the berth and a plume of dust exploded out of its fibres when it landed.

That wouldn’t do.

Impactor beat the pillow with his fists, hard, until the dirty brown had been almost entirely shaken out and the material faded to a mottled desert sand and peach colour. Inside the pillow case, the stuffing was clumped together, unevenly spread and matted solid, but Impactor didn’t care - it was certainly better than anything he’d had to lay his head upon before.

He clasped the pillow at a corner and whacked it against the berth a few more times before accepting that he’d smacked as much dirt out of it as possible. Too drained to clamber onto the top bunk, Impactor clasped the pillow to his chest and collapsed on top of it, sprawling across the lower bunk-bed, face down. He curled his arms beneath the pillow and squeezed it tight, trying not to inhale too much of the surface-world’s earthy stink. The exertion of his trek across the surface weighed heavily on Impactor’s limbs and optics, but a few moments recharge was interrupted cruelly. Megatron kicked open the door. Physically - kicked. The hinges were barely stable after all the times Megatron had returned ‘home’ in a foul mood. Impactor’s temper always simmered close to the surface, but for Megatron to be rattled, someone must have truly stepped out of line.

Incensed and glowering, Megatron’s gaze immediately snapped onto Impactor and narrowed.

“That’s  _my_  berth,” he growled.

Unfazed, and a little groggy from being startled awake, Impactor shifted onto his side. The failure to immediately move riling Megatron’s temper even more, but that was the plan. Impactor gleefully awaited such fortuitous circumstances. It was the perfect mix of aggression and arousal and Impactor baited it to come crashing down on top of him.

“So?”

Megatron’s face crunched into an angry sneer.

“Move,”

Impactor stretched. The angles of his body were too severe to be visually teasing, but between him and Megatron, roughness had a visceral appeal.

“That all you gunna do?” Impactor gnashed his teeth, wickedness shaped his expression and the growl resonating from Megatron deepened.

“I’ve had a hard day,  _don’t_  make things more difficult.”

“Not tryin’ a’ do that.” Impactor rolled over and rested his arm behind his helm. “I’ve had a long day too, been up to the surface,” his knees sloped apart and he viewed Megatron from between them.  “I’m tired.”

A leery smile pulled on Megatron’s lips and he stepped toward the berth, stopping when his knees rested against the slab. He recognised Impactor’s language, the unspoken admission that his body was not as sharp as his mind, so  _you do all the work_. Impactor wasn’t negotiating for a fight - if he was he wouldn’t still be on his back, or leave his ankles within grabbing range…

The force of movement jolted Impactor. His aft screeched across the berth and once their interface panels were flush, Megatron hooked Impactor’s legs around his waist. The force and thrill of Megatron exuding dominance always made Impactor’s body throb. It did not matter that the cold snap he’d absorbed on the surface lingered in his joints, Megatron was certain to frag the lethargy out of him.

“Not too tired I hope,”

Impactor shrugged. His gaze cast aside, lips bitten.

Megatron snapped his hips forward, squeezing the pressure swelling behind Impactor’s interface panel until the need to release became a matter of urgency, but Megatron held his position and trapped Impactor’s equipment. The wild, writing magnetism pulsing in Impactor’s EM fields manifested in Megatron’s own fields as desperate feedback.

Unwilling to be overcome, Impactor forced himself against Megatron, working his hips until friction rolled over sweet spots and Impactor’s valve needfully pulsed. Via a weak fluttering sensation bubbling in Impactor’s tanks, a tinge of heat was brought to his face. Megatron watched closely. His previously poor temper was tainted by thick arousal. It saturated his spark.

Megatron stooped forward slightly, his fingers digging impressions into Impactor’s thighs for balance and the pain made Impactor hiss. It was a treat to be riled by more than just his excitement. The sting roused his need to fight. Rising and resting on his elbows, Impactor lifted himself toward Megatron and snapped at his mouth.

It was uncomfortable, the stretch making their backs ache as the fought to keep pressing their bodies together.

Impactor reached up with one hand and gripped Megatron by the back of his neck, dragging him down. Tension tugged on Megatron’s shoulders, he eventually gave in to the encouragement and collapsed. His body falling into Impactor’s, hard.

“Come on, get in,” Impactor urged, exposing his array. A damp sheen wetted the exterior of his valve and it sparkled. Megatron didn’t see that. He tore his lips free of Impactor’s teeth and walked himself backward on his hands.

Standing again, Megatron’s spike jutted forward, tingling around the tip. Impactor’s ankles were still locked together behind Megatron’s back. With a small squeeze and tug - Megatron was drawn in.

Their willingness and arousal alone wasn’t enough to make entry easy. Impactor’s body convulsed on the first attempt, the second time Megatron swung his hips forward a little more territory was gained, but Impactor still felt a tightness clenching around his middle and cringed. Megatron read Impactor’s expression. With a grunt, he restrained himself, but Impactor refused to be mistaken as delicate. He roughly ground his hips down, as the deeper parts of his valve painfully breached by Megatron it stirred ragged pants from Impactor. His eyes grew wide and glowed. A breathless cry circulated in his open mouth.

Megatron wrapped his hand across Impactor’s lips and stifled the whining current of air.

“Silence, fool - the guards will hear.”

Not only did the guards have an aversion to miners having possessions, they were also compelled to punish any coupling. Impactor knew this - he’d suffered the consequence of breaking the rules before. He did not appreciate Megatron smothering him with his hand as if the sounds he’d made were so loud they could be compared to ones flowing freely from a pleasure drone. It was demeaning. But if that’s what Megatron thought then Impactor played into the scenario, chanting obscenely as he rocked his hips, bouncing against Megatron’s spike until the discomfort was stretched out of him.

“Quiet!” Megatron snarled again, stunning Impactor when he plunged forward deeper and harder. Impactor stilled and Megatron cautiously lifted his palm off Impactor’s mouth - a damp patch of condensation misted his hand.

A low, unsettled groan disturbed the silence.

Megatron huffed.

“If you can’t control yourself I’ll”-

Impactor squeezed around him, encouraging the rest of the threat, but Megatron’s attention had found the pillow.

“What’s that?”

“Junk I found on the surface… it’s mine.”

Megatron didn’t contest ownership, quite frankly the pillow looked disgusting.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Impactor asked, calling Megatron’s attention back when it was obvious Megatron wasn’t staring at him. The fingers pressing into Impactor’s hips squeezed tighter, Megatron’s gaze moved down the length of Impactor’s body and Impactor writhed.

Megatron pulled out of Impactor’s warm valve and interrupted Impactor’s angry cry.

“Turn over.”

With some careless assistance, Impactor was turned. The silvery sheen of lubricant dampened his thighs and when Megatron clambered onto the berth behind Impactor, he squeezed a handful of Impactor’s aft.

“What’s the matter, are you getting sentimental?” Impactor jeered.

Growling, the hand on Impactor’s aft squeezed tighter, Megatron’s other hand savagely forced Impactor’s head into the pillow.

“That’s a big word for you,” Megatron purred. Impactor bristled. He rubbed his aft against Megatron’s spike, urging it inside, “Stay still!” Megatron commanded and Impactor stiffened.

Both hands were placed on Impactor’s aft - the metal squeezed and squashed together, deepening the cleft that embedded Impactor’s interface array. Megatron had a channel through which he could rub his spike, his length sliding across Impactor’s valve stirring heavy beats of anticipation in his spark. Impactor brayed,

“Just stick it in, you miserable”-

Impactor’s head was shoved into the pillow. Megatron’s spike filled his aft. It was a combined action and to smother his wails of pleasure Impactor buried his face pillow, gathering more and more of it into his arms as Megatron’s thrusts progressively became harder and rougher, nailing Impactor’s aft until his valve throbbed.

“ _AH_ ”-! Impactor’s whole body tightened, every piston, every artery. He wheezed into the pillow, eventually chewing on it too to save his lips.

Megatron’s vents grunted. Energon pounded throughout his body making his head throb. He paused, absorbed in the ardent, heavy thud of his fuel pump. His own body mass made his knees ache.    

Impactor stewed. Wanting to hurl a sniping remark across his shoulder but struggled to regain his breath.

Just as he opened his mouth, Megatron grew over his body, weighing Impactor into the pillow. His hands pinched Impactor’s hips.

“Aft up,” he snarled. Each time Impactor tried to pull his legs together, the pressure of Megatron leaning on his back made knees slide apart again until Megatron relieved Impactor’s spine and reared back.

He reaffirmed his hold on Impactor’s body, his clutch possessive and strong enough to hurt. Impactor nuzzled his face across the pillow and gritted his teeth when Megatron re-entered him, smooth and solid, they heard Impactor’s valve slurp around his spike and Megatron chuckled darkly.

“You just can’t keep quiet.”

“Well, I can’t help that!” Impactor tried forcing Megatron to be less reserved and Megatron resisted, sliding his spike in and out of Impactor’s wet, soft insides until Impactor was so frustrated he buried his fists in the pillow. It was strange how denying Impactor had an unwanted effect on Megatron himself - the rage he’d brought to the berth festered. And with a growl, Megatron ceased stalling and shoved his girth into Impactor’s body, groaning hard and loud when the slick valve squeezed around him.

Instead of pulling back, Megatron pushed Impactor forward. He used Impactor’s body like a sleeve, moving Impactor’s hips, peppering the metal with small marks as he dragged Impactor’s body back until their hips were flush then shunted Impactor’s body forward again and again. Lubricant dripped and the a hue of vapour clouded the room as Megatron clanged their bodies together faster and faster, jerkily. The strength in their bodies was sapped by the fullness of their charge and the only support holding them upright was their basic drive to overload.

Impactor’s hips were pulled on roughly, each hit of Megatron’s spike at the back of his ardent valve drove Impactor closer to satisfaction. With the taste of electrical current dancing on his tongue, Impactor gleefully threw his head back and spoke through his teeth.

“C’mon, harder,  _harder!_ ”

Megatron’s hips moved in tandem to Impactor’s, he billowed heavy gasps.

To save himself from mewling, Impactor gnawed the pillow. The flats of his teeth tearing marks in the already raggedy fabric.

“Ah- Are you…overloading?” Megatron was punctuated by his exertion. Impactor gripped the pillow, his stuck his aft out higher. He was close before Megatron asked, but the word itself triggered the action. Impactor’s teeth sunk into the pillow as energy released across his body and carried him through a shuddering climax, spitting muffled curses into the dirty fabric. Impactor breathed hard through his nose.

Impactor pushed his aft back into Megatron’s hands, his valve tightened and held the burgeoning spike inside of him as he peaked.

Then he sagged into the pillow, and Megatron’s EM fields fed off the lingering energy pulsing like an aura around Impactor. The charge was sucked into Megatron’s chest and spike, his spark swelled with excitement, each jerk of his hips building friction which had a palpable effect and Megatron felt his guts twist tighter and tighter as he rutted into Impactor’s rippling and clenching internals, spreading the gush of lubricant that pulsed around his spike when Impactor overloaded.  

Megatron felt his own overload threatening him and jammed his spike inside Impactor hard, feeling Impactor’s body bare down on him. With heat and pressure rising around his neck, Megatron quickly fragged Impactor and tipped himself over the edge, overloading with a heavy sigh as he spilled transfluid inside Impactor’s sloppy valve.

Impactor felt the wetness grow inside him and travel out quickly the moment Megatron released his body. The high of climax settled and the aches in their bodies became more easily recognised.

Groaning, Impactor slowly rolled onto his side as Megatron came crashing onto the berth, filling the space beside him.

There wasn’t a lot of space on the recharge slab, it was only suitable for one mech. Impactor was engulfed by Megatron hot and heavy ex-vents, which stirred the aroma of interfacing and Impactor crinkled his nose.

He lay there listening to Megatron pant, in the corner of his eye he could see Megatron’s chest lifting and sinking, the movement gradually becoming less pronounced as the charge rushing through his core dissipated.

At last they were both quiet and Megatron sunk into his own thoughts and savoured a few charged moments, while Impactor continued to squirm, restlessly trying to steal a few more inches of the berth for himself. But these berths weren’t made to be shared, and even if Megatron was in the mood for some seldom experienced, post-interfacing company, Impactor’s wriggling was tiresome.

With one strong hand and a fluid flick of the wrist, Megatron ripped the pillow out from under Impactor’s head and repositioned it under his own.

Impactor jerked upright.

“Hey!” he protested and received a kick that jolted him perilously close to the edge of the recharge slab.

Megatron readjusted his head against the pillow and growled.

“Get out of my berth.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr: Bammshee@tumblr.com


End file.
